Yuri! Off Ice: New Beginnings
by Orion Hunts
Summary: After winning gold, Yuuri leaves the figure skating world, just as Yictor soon leaves him for Russia to coach Yuri. Heartbroken, Yuri has no one to turn to; not wanting to embarrass his family anymore, he moves away and starts a new life for himself (as a pole dancer oddly enough)Back for the Cup of Japan, Victor is prepared to do whatever it takes to fix their broken relationship.
1. Summary

**Disclaimer:  
I do not own Yuri! On Ice, nor do I claim to. My writing is all in good fun, and I do not mean to mock anyone's idea or creation regarding so.  
Also, my representation of exotic dancing may be off and/or disrespectful. I mean none of what is written in any ill-mannered way, just this idea came to mind and just had to be written down.  
Side note:  
Victor and Yuuri will be out of character. Yuuri will obviously return to his usually blubbering, sweet self but for now has to be a cocky dick. And Victor has to be an airhead dickbag for now too.  
I full heartedly ship Victuuri, but just... yeah.**

 **Japanese Yuri is referred to as Yuuri seeing as constantly calling him "Japanese Yuri" and the other one "Russian Yuri" involves too much work.**

 **All foreign words are curse words.**

Yuuri's life— or so he sees it— is pathetic. He becomes a professional skater only to bomb his first ever Grand Prix and completely embarrass himself in front of his lifelong idol, Victor Nikiforov. After placing dead-last at the 2015 Grand Prix, Yuri planned to retire. After a year away from skating, Yuuri then proceeds to draw the attention of said lifelong idol and somehow lured him into his own pathetic life, away from his own legendary skating career. Somehow Yuuri got Victor to coach him in skating.

Well, with Victor as his coach, Yuuri won gold at his next Grand Prix and- finally with peace of mind- Yuuri retired. His coach-turned fiancé leaves him to coach Russian Yuri in their homeland. Detached and alone, he has nowhere to turn. Not wanting to shame his family anymore by his failures, he turns to dancing- erotic, pole-dancing to be exact. Yuuri uses the stage name Eros. His pole dancing career is kept hidden from his family and it isn't until his former skating rivals come to Japan for a tournament that his persona as Eros starts to come to light.

Read on as Victor tries to fix their broken relationship and as Yuuri tries to deny all that can be fixed.


	2. Chapter One

That day started off like any other day— boring and hectic— but still, I continued going about each waking second as if it means the world to me.

"Levi-Kan, how may I be of service today?" I ask my boss pleasantly, all the while mentally preparing myself for another gruelling, embarrassing day as a pole dancer. Some may say I'm an exotic dancer, although others say stripper… But to be quite honest, I don't exactly care what they call it, it makes no difference to me. I do what I do to make a living, I endure demeaning hoots from cliental just so I don't have to subside to homeless.

"Good evening, Eros. You've got third shift on the spot light," My boss replies absentmindedly, "Rake it in, like you usually do, boy." The older man finishes off happily before ruffling my hair. I nod turning to leave towards the dressing rooms, there I smear my partially-naked body with glitter and hope to have a good performance.

Ever since my amazing skating performances and victory at the Grand Prix— and my [shocking] engagement to Victor Nikiforov— life had been pretty good. That is, until I decided to leave the skating world and retire. Victor, being Victor, went on a whim and left me to coach Yuri in Russia, thus leaving me and breaking off all romantic ties. He left, I suppose, because me no longer skating no longer gave him a reason to stick by me. I was no longer _worthy_ of him, _the_ Victor Nikiforov.

But above leaving me, Victor didn't even have the courage to break off the engagement to my face, but rather I found out about him leaving to Russia through social media.

What a クソ野郎...

However, other than my shitty ex-fiancé leaving me, life turned out to be half decent. I moved back to Japan, and now I live in the great city of Sendai, way different than my home life at Hasetsu.

"Ready to shine, Eros?" Joven chuckles as he walks into the dressing room. Joven is— as one might say— my colleague. He's an older dancer here, and he is winding down in his mid-thirties. To be quite honest, the fact that he still performs on the spotlight shocks and amazes me at the same time.

"Yes, yes. It's only a performance or two tonight, nothing too fancy." I say without mind, too preoccupied with smearing glittery gel to slick my hair back.

"You'll do great, after all, you are the favorite amongst the crowd," Joven flaunts quietly, leaning up to my ear in an almost predatory manner.

Instead of replying right away, I stand up and start shrugging off unnecessary articles of clothing, which in the "exotic dancing" world means everything except underwear or some odd assortment of lace.

"I know." I finally growl to him sexually before walking out.

The old awkward, sensitive Yuuri is gone. Now stands me, Eros, someone nobody wants to mess with.

\- 

Back in Russia, the temperature is cold, the ground and air frozen, and of course our skaters are whiny. Mila and Georgie are still skating, albeit not as successfully as one would have hoped, but are still skating nevertheless. Yuri of course is still skating too, the childish boy is nearing his seventeenth birthday soon actually. The Cup of Japan starts soon, one of the first competitions in line for this season.

"Victor, c'mon, we're going to be late!" Yuri whines, stomping his foot on the snowy ground.

"Be quiet, time to think..." I mumble, tapping my chin as plans for the Cup of Japan float in my mind.

"So we leave... Then we check in... What's so important about Hasetsu, Japan?" I wonder aloud.

"Maybe because your ex-lover lives there?" Georgie supplies helpfully.

Realization hits me in the face like a brick. Not only the same town, but also the fact that I remember that all the attending skaters and staff will be staying at the sponsored hotel- the Katsuki Hotsprings Inn!

"дерьмо! Yuuri will be there!" I shout jumping up, "Yuuri will be at the hotel! I get to see Yuuri again!" I jump up and down in excitement, bringing the closest person near me in for a hug. Awkwardly enough, that person is Yakov, my co-coach who is never too thrilled on the thought of being squashed by an excited man-child (me).

"Calm down, Vitya, maybe now you can fix that broken relationship of yours..." He grumbles in disdain, clearly unhappy at the thought of possibly more sappiness to come in the near future.

With my hopes high, I march out because it is time to fix broken ties

It is time to find and reclaim my love, Katsuki Yuuri! 


	3. Chapter Two

**Again, I apologize if anything offensive is said. I'm talking as if I am Yuuri, I'm not trying to be a dick.**

 **There will be** _ **no**_ **smut in this fic, I'm not about that.**

 **-**

It's raining really hard right now.

And what I mean by that, is that I'm drowning in the flow of money being thrown at me.

Who knew that being a slut could be so amazing?

After another round of applause, I leave the stage with my bag full of cash and with a satisfied smirk tugging at my lips. Sweat glistened from my brow, and greedy hands grabbed at my ass, as if I'd give anything to them for free...

"Not today, honey," I tut mockingly to one of my regulars. "I'm not for sale yet!" My laughing voice can be heard as the same grabby man tries to advance, claiming he only wanted a sample. As if...

It isn't until I'm alone in the dressing room that I finally get some peace and quiet.

Looking into the mirror, I see so much glitter. There's more glitter on my hair and skin than there are brain cells in Victor's entire head.

Oops, did I actually just think that?

Well, I mean, it isn't not true...

As I'm attempting to clean my skin from the stain of sparkles, my phone starts ringing obnoxiously loud.

"Hello?" I ask hesitantly. After all, who would even call me at this hour? It's around midnight, unless of course it's my friend Phichit calling me. He calls at weird hours since he's usually in some other continent.

"Yuuri! Listen, I need a favor" My sister exclaims quickly, her voice is always easy to recognize on the spot. I start to nod my head before remembering that she can't actually see me.

"Yeah sure, what do you need?" I ask curiously because what reason would she even be up at this hour?

"Right now, we're, uh, severely understaffed at the inn. We were wondering, could you come back home and help run this place for a bit?" She asks without hesitation, knowing full well that I would drop anything for our family.

"Of course! I just need to make some arrangements with my boss," I say instantly. Family comes first; honestly, most anything comes before this lousy job actually.

"I'll see you soon," I say before hanging up. This will be my first time home since I left the figure skating world and since Victor left my world. But while it may have only been weeks, it already feels as if everything has already changed.

-

My ears ring from the constant annoying arguments between Yuri and everyone in the car. It's as if he lives to piss off everyone in sight, and it's as if he gets a rush out of annoying everyone out of their own mind. Not to say I'm not extremely proud of him for all his accomplishments, just to say I think he's extremely annoying...

Yuri starts screeching at Georgi, "Stop hogging the mirror! You look like a little kid who managed to get away with smearing their face in their mother's makeup, is that the look you're even going for?"

Georgi payed the little brat no mind before continuing to paint his face in more blue lipstick.

"I'm practicing my makeup skills for the competition, I'm almost positive this is how it should look," he defended himself quietly, finally closing the cars only hand-held mirror and offering it to the needy teenager.

"Yurio's right, you look God awful!" Mila taunted, her shrill voice filling the small enclosure with her annoying laugh.

"Shut up, hag!" He screams, yet again sounding like a cat thrown into the rain.

"Yuri, behave yourself," I butt in tediously, "And Georgi... take off the clown paint, you look terrible."

The grown man huffs in annoyance, while Yuri starts to tie his hair back in a meticulous manner after snatching the mirror away [like the child he is]. The blonde boy begins to admire himself in the mirror, showing off just how narcissistic he really is.

"Seriously? Are you that in love with yourself?" I can't help but ask Yuri, his face contorted in a look of resentment at my snickering. He starts to open his mouth, preparing for a screaming match before I quietly place my finger in the air, shushing him before his fuming could even begin.

"We get to the airport in about ten minutes. So let's play the quiet game until then." I whisper, as if the tiniest amount of volume hurts my ears. To my surprise, Yuri stops trying to pick a fight with everyone, and the older two are following along with the quiet game.

With the newfound quietness, my thoughts slowly begin to drift to more mournful topics.

For instance, will I be able to get Yuuri's forgiveness, win back his approval? Not only that, but explain why I had to leave him for Russia! So many things revolving around that one innocent man, he wouldn't be able to understand why I did any of it. And I understand that I won't be able to even explain any of it.

It's a new day, and anything can happen. The only question is, am I ready for it to happen?

-  
 **  
I'm just gonna repeat myself here but, there will be** _ **no**_ **smut in this fic, I'm not about that.**

 **Also, this will be a multi-fic, and it takes place a few weeks after Yuuri wins gold at the Grand Prix.**

 **Since the breakup is so recent, that's why Yuuri is so salty and why Victor hasn't tried fixing anything yet.**

 **Alright, thanks for reading and please leave a review!**


	4. Chapter Three Real

**Side Note:**

 **I forgot to mention, Yuri's day job is as a ballet teacher, that'll be discussed more later.**

 **I've been using the wrong name for Yuuri's family inn, I'll be referring to it as its proper name now,** _ **Yutopia Katsuki.**_

 **Your reviews are pushing the writing process along, so feel free to leave your thoughts in the review section. Thanks!**

I'm not meant to be a skater or a hostess, I may have attempted each job at one point in my life, but neither job ever suited me. I've never really been one for cleaning-up after or serving people— not that I have ever refused to do so— but I just can't say I saw myself doing that for my entire life at my family's inn. Although, I do think my displeasure for serving people was one of the main reasons as to why I moved to the city of Sendai and started my own life there. After all, my reason for leaving home was never solely because I wanted to dance erotically for horny men, it was just because I was ready to move on from the skating world and start my own life— at the time, Victor was in said life too. To be quite honest, my plan for after I left the skating world was to become a teacher (a ballet teacher to be specific), so after leaving it all, I somehow managed to start my own studio. Tough times had called for tough measures though, and when I realized that teaching wasn't paying the bills, I had to find another job too.

But here I am, taking the bus back home to serve people yet again.

"You saving that seat?" A fat man asked me, breaking my train of thought.

"No, sir, it's all yours," I reply a bit disoriented, the loud whoosh of the bus breaks rattling inside my head. He practically plops down on my bag before I could even pull it away from the seat.

"You look familiar," he declares boldly, as if I had been some acquaintance from his highschool days. He continues nodding his head, triple chins jiggling all over as he thinks as to who I might be. My heart skips a beat over how I may be familiar to this complete stranger.

"Wait a second... You're that Katsuki skater! You won gold at the Grand Prix!" He shouts triumphantly, pointing one of his greasy-sausage fingers at me.

I can't help but sigh in relief, I had been worried that he recognized me from my most recent line of work. "Yes, sir," I responded smoothly, only hoping that he'd stop gawking over me soon.

"What an honor it is to meet you, my daughter loves your skating!" He continues to say, his voice getting louder and louder by the word, causing a scene.

"Yes, thank you, that means a lot to me," I say hesitantly, only hoping he doesn't catch on to my fib. The fat man then proceeds to pull a napkin from his pocket and asks for an autograph. I oblige only hoping that this shuts the guy up and stops the scene from truly unfolding before my eyes. Finally, after scribbling my signature down, I finally make my escape as it's my stop.

Hurrying down the sidewalk to the _Yutopia Katsuki,_ I pass a few dozen tour buses and get crowded by media reporters, all trying to cram themselves in my face. I suppose I never had actually explained why I retired from the skating industry or why Victor and I called it quits, but that surely couldn't be the reason why these reporters were crowding my family workplace.

Apparently my skating career hadn't faded yet, seeing as random citizens and the media still recognize and greet me. My only true question is... why so many reporters outside the  
hotel?

-

My team and I trudge through the parking lot to the hotel's lobby, our only hope is to escape the mass-hoards of media— all of which are trying to videotape our every move.

The plane ride had been much better than anticipated as Yuri had finally shut up, and Yakov decided to sleep the whole time— instead of lecturing everyone on our behavior the entire time like last trip.  
On the positive side, Georgi's face was wiped clean of the horrible clown pain and was actually making small-talk with Mila too.

"You think J.J. will be there?" He asks Mila nonchalantly, not realizing the fact that I started eavesdropping as soon as I heard that bitch-boy's name.

"Sadly, yeah. I was hoping he'd retire after last years stunning defeat," she sighed sadly, already picturing the narcissistic and sexist comments yet to be made by J.J. this upcoming competition.

"I'm pretty sure his marriage is already starting to go downhill too!" Georgi chuckles at the thought, "Clearly she only married him for his money!" We all laugh at the thought, his comment even earned a slight chuckle from Yakov. We can all take joy in reminiscing about J.J. and all his failures, but even his screw-ups compare as nothing to my loss of Yuuri...

But finally we make it to the lobby, there we're greeted by staff running around trying to get everything settled and perfect for every skater staying.

"Wow, it's a lot different. It's as if everything's changed!" I mutter, practically inaudible. My thoughts can't help but jump straight to Yuuri and where he was right now. Is he in his room?- down the hall?- in the hot springs? He could be anywhere right now, but in my heart I knew that he was close by.

Oh, little piggy... Where are you?

-

 **For future reference, do you guys want more Yuuri perspective or more Victor perspective? As we get deeper into the story, it'll only make sense for it to be in one's perspective for longer periods of time (or even not at all).**

 **And don't worry, Yuuri pole dancing is crucial to this story, it doesn't stop here! That's actually a major turning point, so don't forget about that sexy Yuuri! ;)**

 **To paraphrase what I just asked though,**

 **more Yuuri or more Victor?**

 **And also, what pairings? Obviously slow-burn Victuuri, but who else?**

 **Thanks!**


	5. Chapter Four

**I was going to use these Japanese words in the story (from Google Translate, so don't trust the accuracy), but didn't. I kept the translations up anyway.**

 **姉** **\- elder sister**

 **kutabare - drop dead**

 **Longest chapter yet, around 970 words (not including author's notes). So I'm pretty pumped about that.**

 **Sorry for the wait, I know the first few chapters were out really early on, but I didn't have enough time to properly write this. In truth, this was ready last night, I just didn't feel like posting it.**

In all honesty, I don't know what I should have expected. _Of course_ they'd need my help for handing a bunch of pompous figure skaters. But feeling defeated and embarrassed, I guess now I just wish that I could just disappear off the face of the planet Earth.

Perhaps I'm just pissed that I have to deal with the half-brained twit again, but honestly, I cannot stand most of the people here (that's a lie, but J.J. _has_ to count for several people, he's just that obnoxious).

"Yuuri, get changed! We have to prepare for them all, they will be here any second!" Mari calls out to me, pounding on the bedroom door.

"Sister, um, I'm too sick!" I try to lie, adding a fake cough to really sell the deal. Not really in the mood, I lay down on my floor and just ignore her pounding for the few seconds before she starts screaming again.

"Quiet now, Yuuri, just get ready fast!" Mari demands, hitting my door even more urgently (and here I didn't even think that was even possible).

I stumble around my old room, all my childhood possessions still in place, except all my Victor posters, those were taken down forever ago.

After slipping on the crimson-colored, staff robe, I make sure that my contacts are still in place and hadn't fallen out again— one would be surprised to know how often that happens to me— and then I rushed out to find Mari, who happened to be lounging against my door frame.

"Took you long enough, Cinderella, your makeup took longer than expected!" She said mockingly, but not without warmth in her laughing voice. "I know seeing all your old skating rivals must suck, but you'll get through it. After all, you _are_ a Katsuki!"

I only manage a half-hearted laugh, my smile not quite reaching my eyes. How can I manage to face my old competitors? New ones that have already surpassed my greatest accomplishments? How can I face my ex-fiancé?— no wait, scratch that, he can just drop dead for all I care. But the rest? How embarrassing, less than a year ago I had still been competing with them, albeit losing mostly, but still competing amongst them.

"All the athletes and their coaches will be waiting in the banquet hall for further details on the upcoming Grand Prix Series, then we'll be expected to show them to their rooms." Marie explained it as if I were a two year old, I knew I should be insulted at her patronizing tone, but I knew I deserved it.

Before walking into the banquet hall fully, I had already caught a glimpse of Victor's shortly-cropped, silver hair and my heart started to pound in happiness before I remembered why I hated him.

It's one thing to break up over text, but leaving your fiancé in the middle of the night with nothing but a short, vague note?

What a fucking asshole.

 **Line Break**

My ears were being talked off. Yakov was lecturing Georgi, Mila, and Yurio, not only that, but there were reporters practically _begging_ like peasants for my attention. Annoyed and bored, I finally turn to the swarm of media surrounding us and smile some-what-pleasantly before saying, "Come back later for an interview with the team, but now is not a good time." Of course, I meant none of that, but they start to frenzy over my little comment. Who even cares about this though? It's only a tiny meeting, nothing to get excited over.

 _Unless Yuuri's here, then it'd be a_ _fantastic meeting!_

"Vitya, are you even paying attention to what I was just saying?" Yakov demands, snapping my wavering thoughts back into focus.

"You were lectur- I mean, talking to me too?" I ask unsure, my shoulders rise and fall uncertainly, "Sorry, coach."

He rolls his eyes before continuing on in his lecture, this time I catch something about behavior and how our actions represent Russia as a whole. Whatever that means.

"Ladies and gentleman, the presentation will soon begin," one of the Grand Prix Officials announces. Mostly everyone in the room spoke English, but those who didn't had to rely on a translator.

They began to talk about technicalities and what-not, but what really got me going was my search for Yuuri. He has to be somewhere in the sea of hotel staff. Right? All of them were standing quietly off to the side, most wearing some weird, reddish robe thing. Personally, I think they should burn those _horrible_ uniforms. But that's all I'm saying.

"Can you find Yuuri? I can't find him anywhere." I whisper into Georgi's ear, earning a pointed glare from Yakov. Without talking, he shrugs and shakes his head no. Of course, all the staff look the same, absolutely no identifiers. Who's idea was it to have everyone wear the same thing, with same posture, with the same bowed head position? I can't see any of their faces! I groan in annoyance, earning another glare from Yakov, but still I continue my search in finding my lost love.

"Finally, the Hotel owners, Toshiya and Hiroko Katsuki-san are here to help you to your rooms." The same boring presenter announces, after a good half-hour of talking, leaving the podium. Yuuri's parents bow to him before telling everyone how grateful they were to have us all staying here.

Right before we were to leave for our rooms, I watched all the staff members leave before finally catching a glimpse of my long lost love.

"Hey, you're not fat!" I accidentally shout, causing every head to turn my way. Everyone, the staff, all the skaters and coaches, and even the reporters— who were writing all of this 'dramatic' story down.

My face started burning bright red as I meet his questioning gaze, I can't believe I actually shouted that.

"Yeah, but by the looks of it, you're the one who got fat."

Ouch, that was unexpected.

 **Victor is not fat by the by, but he's also not in vigorous training anymore, so he's also not as fit as he was.**

 **Yuuri will get back to his exotic dancing soon, so do not worry about that!**

 **Thanks for reading!**


	6. Chapter Five

**Yeah man, 1,200ish words!**

 **Thanks for all the reviews guys and sorry for the wait!**

I'm a mature adult. And I can assure everyone that this is not a midlife crisis (I'm only nearing twenty-five years old, you shitheads).

But I do admit, calling Victor fat was _totally_ uncalled for.

And then later, when he tried to apologize, perhaps ignoring him and spitting in his drink was uncalled for too.

And yes, Mari yelling at me was totally warranted.

But honestly, the big fuss over this small issue is a no biggie. Victor just needs to get over himself and drag himself back to Hell, that's where he belongs anyway. Oh wait, I meant Russia (same difference).

"Stop sulking in your room, Yuuri. You're being extremely immature! This isn't you!" Mari yells, pounding on my door, yet again.

What's with her and doors anyway, why's she always hitting them?

"I'll come out when he leaves!" I shout back, pissed off.

"Oh no, you're coming out now!" She yells, slamming open my door and dragging me by my collar.

Whether it be today or next week, sometime during my stay home Mari is going to rip my door off the hinges. I swear to God, that lady is like the freaking Hulk...

"Okay, okay." I mumble defensively, putting my hands up in a surrendering position. Not really expecting a slap or anything, I quickly straighten up and wait for her to speak. We stand there for a moment or so, just taking in each others presence. Mari looks me up and down, as if deciding just how much trouble I should be in right now. Her soft brown eyes are washed with relief to see me home but also with anger at my obvious hatred for Victor. After a few more seconds of awkward silence, she finally makes her decision.

"If you can manage to not make an ass out of yourself again, maybe you'll be allowed to have some kutsudon." Mari declares dramatically, still somewhat seething about my apparent immaturity.

However, her eyes glisten at the bribery, she acts as if I would jump to the bait— which she's right, I typically would— however I merely say, "Oh, no need to bring out the pork. I have no wish to get obese again." I never was actually _obese,_ but let's be real here... Being nice about it, I guess I could say I was only _pleasantly_ _plump._

Mari looks at me shocked by my statement, but not before hitting me upside the head. Her quavering voice hisses out, "I don't know who you are, but bring my little brother back." I watch as she storms away, and I can't help but feel bad for the way I've been acting. She's right, this isn't me.

Instead of following her and making amendments, I decide to clean up the banquet hall. I can't possibly make things worse there.

 _ **Send My Love, Lenore**_

Throughout my childhood, whenever there was a particularly terrible blizzard— or really if anything upsetting happened, like a skating defeat or failed test— my mother would always cook hot cocoa on the burner and would drown marshmallows in it for my brothers and me. Oddly enough, that always calmed my one easily-frightened brother and was always a nice treat to pick up the spirits for myself.

Even to this day, hot cocoa always puts a smile on my face.

However, statistically speaking, I'd need approximately 187 quintillion gallons of hot cocoa to soothe my shattered heart at this current moment. Had I really thought winning Yuuri back was this easy? Because, well, I was _way_ off in that one.

"What'll I do?" I groan sulkily into my pillow, currently dying from humiliation and soul-crushing sadness.

"Maybe stop whining, you—" Yurio starts to say before getting whacked in the face with a pillow.

"Stop cursing and being a brat," Yukov demands, successfully shutting up the sulky teenager. "And you, stop being such an airhead and explain why you left him!" He continues on, his loud voice booming and shaking the inn's windows in the joint room.

I nod, my face still absorbed in the silk pillow, and let out a muffled yes as I listen to Yurio grumble about annoying adults.

We sit there in near silence; in the background crickets chirp and birds sing, the sky turning a delicious, plum-colored purple, but still I continue to await the dreadful encounter I will soon have with my Yuuri tomorrow. Without another word, I leave the room swiftly and hop into a taxi and head toward any establishment still look open at this late hour.

Finally, after what feels like hours, I pass by a flashy building, one as loud as a lions roar and as flashy as a drag queen's lips. I beckon to the driver for him to stop and let me out. Stumbling around for the correct amount of change, I make my exit quickly, as it the car had suddenly caught fire.

"Here's fine, thanks," I say cautiously to the driver, not wanting to make it obvious that I was looking for a drink to ease my mind. Obviously not understanding my English dialect though, the fat, toad-like man only grunts as I begin to pay him, leaving me with just enough cash to get drunk off my ass.

The building, as flashy as it was on the outside, is even more obnoxious on the inside. Sparkly violet confetti litters the floor— amongst puddles of suspiciously colored substances— and steel poles on top of flashy stages. An astonishingly large group of horny men and women alike stand waiting for a dancer known as "The Steel Striker", _which is a rather strange stage name in my opinion_...

"This is a strip club?" I mumble quietly to myself, continuing to look around in the odd room in silent shock.

"So it's true... The lighter your hair, the stupider you are," A hulking man says, sticking out a hairy hand suddenly. "I'm Joven, hope to see you from the stage." He says flirtatiously, adding in a wink for me.

I try to reply as cheekily, but only manage a half-hearted nod and hello. He seems disappointed at my lack of reaction, even though he greeted me by calling me an idiot and then proceeds at attempting to arouse me.

"Bet you're here to see me, am I right?" Joven purrs out, "I'm best known as the Mystical Moew." He claws out sexually, as if he were a lion hyped up on Viagra. His grey-brown eyes sparkling like two great, big shits in a toilet bowl.

What's really mystical about him though is that he's still a stripper at what, age ninety?

"No, sorry. I'm here for... not that reason... Who even knew it was a strip joint though?" I laugh out, creating more stiffness between us. The glowering man stalks off, muttering about some apparent show stealer named "Eros", as if I were expected to know who that even was...

The Meow guy continued to sulk near the bar for a few moments more before finally leaving the room.

After only a few shots my world starts to spin. Man, vodka usually doesn't affect me like this...


	7. Christmas Special

**This has nothing to do with the fanfiction, but I'm unused to writing sappy romance, so I decided to give it a try.**

 **This is in the timeline of the current show though, maybe like the Christmas after the Grand Prix.**

 **No religion and no smutty porn.**

 **Christmas Special:**

I watch as Victor dances around me, Christmas lights laced in between his fingers. His silver hair longer than it had been this previous skating season and a happy, heart-shaped smile evident on his face. Jumping from table to table, Victor decides that stringing the lights from rafter to rafter is a good idea, even though they'll probably fall within a few minutes.

"Feel free to help me peel these potatoes, it's a bit much to do myself," I say with a light heart. His crinkly laugh lines deepen around his mouth as he smiles even wider, as if what I had said was a joke to be laughed at. He twirls around me and chose to ignore what I had said. Unfazed, I threw a freshly washed potato at his unsuspecting head.

"What was that for?" He yelped as soon as the sopping wet vegetable hit him. He spun to face me, looking just like a doe caught in traffic.

"Help me, Vitya, I can't have all these vegetables peeled and cooked in time for Christmas dinner!" I moan, as if this were a gut-wrenching job— and really, it is a terrible activity. I don't know if it was my whining or the use of the name Vitya, but he finally does plop down beside me.

After no more than a minute, Victor is already complaining.

"I thought dealing with Georgi's constant lovesickness was the worst thing ever," Victor says stoically, before turning to me with an expression of pure sadness. "But this is way worse. Potatoes aren't worth this type of torture!"

I laugh as he attempts to get every last bit of skin off the poor vegetable— still whining like a little child— before I take his lips in my own.

"Does that mean we're done with this act from Hell?" He asks hopefully, his pale face brightening with eagerness and smiling in hopeful-triumph.

"No, that was just to shut you up," I say giggling before turning back to work. Surprisingly enough, he does stay quiet for the remainder of us sitting there working. It's only when Mari comes to relieve us from washing and preparing the veggies that he finally talks again.

"How about we go out to town, I hear they have festive stuff there!" Victor announces, bouncing up and down like an excited puppy. He takes my hand in his own and drags me away without even waiting for a response. The market area is full with a sea of shoppers, all of which forgot to buy presents.

"Victor, there's too many people," I mumble a tad worried, "Anything could happen when the crowd is this dense."

He looks thoughtful for a moment before dragging me inwards, clearly deciding that I have nothing to worry about. The red and green lights flash and sparkle on his soft hair and bright eyes.

"Nothing too bad can happen, only joy and cheer are here!" He gushes out, excited for whatever reason. Bouncing like a bunny, he continues to dance through the crowd, dragging me to a small hot chocolate stand and buying some sugar cookies and hot cocoa. Steaming around the mugs, the hot frothy liquid is filled to the brim, just ready to burn our tongues.

"I love you, I hope you know that," I say uncertainly, still staring at the cups of cocoa shyly. "But I also hope you know how packed it is here and just..." My worries don't quite leave me, though still, Victor seems too happy to even consider the possibilities of a packed crowd.

"Oh my little piggy, it'll be this crowded at our wedding today!" He announces jumping up. And I swear, that news gave me a near heart attack. With the thumping in my chest, I turn to look at him in wonder.

"Are you... What?" I say surprised. Slowly, his cheeky grin slips off his face like a popsicle melting on a burning, hot summer day.

"You... You do know that your..." He stutters out unsure. "You do know that's what they're preparing right now, our wedding, I mean."

As if I wasn't worried before, suddenly my chest tightens even more. Pacing back and forth in the tight enclosure, I look at Victor's sparking expression in amazement.

"Oh my God, today?" I half-shout, now in full panic mode. Before I freak out even more, Victor smashes his face into mine, successfully shutting me up.

"Oh my, wait, did I forget to tell you we're getting married today?" Victor suddenly uttered out, confusion evident in his voice. "Nevertheless, Yuuri, it'll be fun! Our love will be cemented forever!"

And in that moment, I swear my soul left my body. He held me in his arms as I process all the new information, still anxious, finally though I accept the fact that worrying over this won't do anything.

"Are you sure you want to... marry me?" I ask hesitant, my voice quavering over each syllable. I can't help it, but my hands start to shake around my mug of hot cocoa, the hot steamy liquid spilling on the sides.

As if my question were a joke, Victor starts laughing as if it were the funniest thing in the world. "Yuuri, how could you even question my love for you? You're my everything," He reveals with all the confidence a man can hold. Taking the mug from my hands, he sets it down on the table before taking my face in his hands and kissing me again.

"I want to be with you forever, and what better time to do it than the happiest day of the year?" Victor whispers as if it was a secret, which I suppose it was in a way.

I find my anxiety fading away because I suppose I _would_ peel all the potatoes in the world to be with this man forever.

 **Merry Christmas and Happy Hanukkah!**

 **Sorry for the terrible one shot, I just wanted to try writing a sappy fic (I failed, oops).**

 **I'm not even sure if I displayed Yuuri the right way, this was much different than my usual way of portraying him because I'm just so use to writing about asshole/confident Yuuri.**

 **Anyway, happy holidays!**


	8. Chapter Six

**Warning:**

 **Things with Yuuri get a bit sad through his perspective. I wrote his POV when I was feeling really bummed out about life, so that's kinda why it's dark.**

 **I'm not really liking how this chapter went, it'll NEVER be this gloomy again.**

 **Skip Yuuri's pov if you wish, it isn't vital stuff, it just highlights how Victor affected him. It gets less weird after the** _ **Unrequited love is the worst feeling in the world**_ **. line.**

 _Yuuri_

The dim lights in the dressing room make it hard to locate the hair gel, but finally I do find it near a large bottle of sparkles. God, pink and silver glitter are in _every_ little crevice, it's nauseating.

I can't help but obsess over what is yet to come during my week with Victor at Yutopia, and an empty feeling settles deep in the pit of my stomach at the horrors to come. Just the thought of our failed relationship brings back a dark, meaningless void. Loneliness seeps into every nook of my body, making me ache all over. Blinded by despair and worthlessness, I find tears gushing out of my eyes until only empty sobs escape from my bleeding lips, smearing my mascara and face paint making me look like a moody drama queen in the rain.

Loneliness is romanticized, it is said that after a year of silence comes a prince. That's a load of bullshit. My near-decade of silence has not come with a prize of a handsome boy on a pony.

No.

My near-decade of silence resulted in a lifetime worth of lost championships, new enemies, and awkward, broken relationships. My year of silence ended up with me falling even more into this empty pit of despair.

I'm to the point of no hope. I ache with empty feelings and with empty promises. The dark void swirls within me, making me choke on the very same air everyone else so easily breathes. The emptiness within me cannot be filled, not with emotion nor self worth.

Everything I do is judged, whether it be by innocent bystanders or those I call 'friends'.

A dog is worth more and is respected more than me because a dog at least can be sold for something. I am wasting away, like a forgotten baloney sandwich on a deathly-hot sidewalk.

There is a dark void inside me, full of meaningless hope and broken promises. Awkward glances and disappointed parents. A lack of social life and a lack of aspiration.

 _Unrequited love is the worst feeling_ _in_ _the world..._

But I put that all past me and prepare myself for the night to come. A night full of obnoxious spectators and dirty dancing.

A night of chaffed thighs and blinding lights. Fixing my face and putting on a confident smile, I strut out to the hall and make my way to the showroom. Loud voices are calling for my name— for _Eros_ , an over-sexualized showroom dancer. It's never for me, after all I am only a former figure skater who gave up on winning too soon. Someone who use to have self worth.

Stepping up onto the stage, I fail to see my half-drunk ex-fiancé, the one with his phone video recorder out, eagerly awaiting _Eros_ ' show.

 _Victor_

I fumble around with my phone; the room's neon, fluorescent lighting blinding my eyes. The obnoxiously loud music pounding my ear drums in and making my head spin even more so than it should. All around me sit sweaty people, whether it be dancers or spectators, they're all smothered in the sticky substance.

"Ladies and gentlemen, perverts and admirers, put your hands together for our prized gem, _Eros_!" A large bald man announces from the D.J. booth, sounding as if he had just popped up out of a terribly shot infomercial. Listening to everyone around me, I'm surprised to note that my sloppy Japanese skills somehow manages to comprehend what everyone around me is whispering about— apparently this Eros guy is the real show stopper...

Moments after Eros struts on the high-risen stage, my mind successfully links his face to my very own Katsuki Yuuri, a man who can brighten the darkest of nights with just a smile. Strange though, I would never have linked my naive, innocent katsudon to the scandalously-dressed eye porn before me. But hey, can't blame the drunk guy for his lonely thoughts.

"Ooh, he's pretty," I slur happily, wrapping my arms around a grumpy, bald man sitting next to me at the bar.

He nods at what I said, shaking me off a little before replying, "I come here for all of his performances. He's quite the slut." I frown at the use of the term before shrugging, it's none of my business over what he thinks really. After shaking me off fully, he turns his back from me and watches the show, ignoring me as well as one can.

Smooth legs wrap one over the other on the stainless steel pole, sweat glistening from all over. The man on stage looks magnificent, even though every bit of him is blurred slightly from my tipsy vision. While I'm drunk out of my own misery, I still remember to take out my phone so it can capture every second of this erotic performance— this way I can rewatch every second of him after I sober up.

The loud— almost raunchy— music shakes the floor and walls as the Sex God before me twirls and twists like an eel on the pole. Transfixed, I can't help but be even more drawn into the performance as he twists his body into impossible positions.

"That move is called the Rainbow Marchenko," Chris, my former skating rival, declares as he plops right down next to me on the bar stool to my left. "Or, as you Russians would call it, the Радуга Марченко." He looks at me for a mere second before turning to the stage with an odd glint in his eyes. The strange man comes out of nowhere— only to party at some random strip club— and acts oh-so casually about stripping positions, this behavior is odd in general but still nevertheless normal for him...

Chris and I stare at the stage, both of us captivated by the flashy performance— and probably more so by Ero's provocative costume, the skin tight lace leaving no room for wonder.

After a minute of observing, Chris turns to me with a small chuckle and asks quietly, "Why's Yuuri Katsuki on stage?" And in that moment, I swear it was as if the world had stopped turning.

"What?" I manage to choke out because surely all the vodka shots I took were merely playing tricks on me, my sweet little pork cutlet would never sell himself out like this.

However, as much as I may want to question it, I did link this dancers face to Yuuri earlier, so it isn't as if this should be any real shock.

"Yuuri Katsuki? Former figure skater? Your ex-fiancé? How else do I describe him?" Chris continues on nonchalantly, his dark eyes still transfixed to the stage.

Realizing my baby is on stage near-naked causes my dinner to splatter all over Chris's nice, polished shoes... My phone— still recording every bit of the performance— falls to my lap just as the music cuts off and just as the exotic dancer disappears into the dark.

"Oh, mon dieu!" I choke out as Chris pats my back soothingly, we somehow managed to exit the club without too much of a mess. The sidewalk is cracked and full of litter, but that seems to not be as much of a problem as my current worries over Yuuri.

"Since when did you learn French?" Chris says quietly, slightly amused by the turn of phrase and my still-shocked expression.

"Oh, I went through some weird phases, my obsession over France ended up with me learning the language."

He nods thoughtful before deciding, "You know, why don't you try winning him back? Don't surrender like France would, I'm sure he isn't completely over you." His opinion, while considerate , goes in one ear and out the other. The possibility of him coming back to me seems way less dim. Why would Yuuri even want some crusty old Russian when he has hundreds— if not thousands— of admirers like those at the club?

"Victor, hope isn't lost. He was crazy about you at one point in time, why not make him fall for you again?" Chris says lightly, brushing my back with his knuckles softly. "If you love something, let it go. If it comes back it was always yours. If it doesn't, it never was." The quote rings in my head and stays there.

Yuuri may have directed his eros elsewhere, but I'll make sure his love is only for me by the end of this week. New beginnings don't necessarily mean new people.

 **Sorry for this crummy chapter, I tried making Victor's POV longer to make up for Yuuri's evident heart brokenness.**

 **Should I rewrite this chapter?**


	9. Chapter Seven

**Sorry for such a late update, I have a terrible case of writer's block and even this chapter was excruciating to write. It's more of just a filler, it's leading up to way more.**

 _Yuuri_

The morning after a late shift is never pleasant. I usually don't necessarily have a hangover, but I always feel this weird, groggy feeling wash over me.

Not only that, but glitter seems to crust over every inch of my skin too, my sweat and hair gel pasting it over every inch of skin exposed (so basically glitter is everywhere). Although even with the morning-after pain and sparkle catastrophe, I can't even complain about working the pole— it's my own fault for getting into this business anyway.

It's easy to say I absolutely detest this regular groggy wakeup call every morning-after. Another dislike of mine being the fact that I hate sparkles in general, so it being everywhere is never a pleasant experience of the after-morning; the whole morning-after crap is even worse now too, especially since I'm working at the Inn part-time as is, it's pretty hard to sneak in and wash the glitter-sweat paste off without being spotted by coworkers or even residents _and_ still have time to do normal night activities— like sleeping.

But here I am, feeling dead inside and just about ready to go into a year-long coma after an in-particularly busy night. And, oh look, I have to be up and about for work in no more than ten minutes.

Fun.

But as per usual, Mari comes pounding my door, jolting me out of my half-dead thoughts way sooner than expected.

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty!" Her sing song voice comes calling out, it's loud enough to wake up everyone residing in the inn, but that doesn't stop her from continuing to scream in my ear. "Rise and shine!"

I sit up from my position on the floor, having only collapsed there two minutes ago and can only hope that I don't look as tired as I feel, because even already dressed in my uniform and freshly washed with only a minimal— if any— amount of glitter left on me, I still already can tell that it looks like I got sucker-punched in both my eye sockets.

"Quiet, sister, no need to disturb all of Japan," I mumble in a dazzled state, still unable to comprehend her peppiness so early in the morning. Her melodic voice laughs in a kind-hearted manner and continues to ignore me as she pulls me up.

She's already pushing me out the door and down the hall before she starts talking again, though the quietness had been nice for the entire five seconds of silence.

About halfway to the dining hall, Mari starts complaining about how useless little brothers are who never do any work. Her complaints, however, go in one ear and out the other as I focus on putting one foot in front of the other. Though her annoyed tone does start to get on my nerves as a pounding headache starts beating inside my skull.

"Mari, you're literally complaining _about_ me _to_ me..." I mutter confused, blinking slowly as I take in the dining hall. (Apparently the walk here is faster when you're dragged by the human hulk.)

"Yes, well, maybe you should stop sleeping in and get start work on time!" She exclaims, looking about ready to chew my head off.

I blink blearily at her, her hands are on her hips and cigarette in mouth, this is a usual stance for her, though her annoyed expression is utterly new to me. "It's only 06:18? That's... early."

"No, that's eighteen minutes late! Where were you last night, the club?" Her mocking tone adds slight panic to my already confused head. Because honestly, if anyone knew I worked there...

"Hello? Earth to Yuuri, you okay?" She questions after thirty-seconds of no response, waving her hand in front of my face as if I had gone blind.

Eyebrows furrowed in concern, she turns to look at me seriously. "You okay?" She repeats again, this time her tone way softer.

 _No, I'm dead tired. If only I actually had time to sleep last night then maybe I wouldn't feel like death itself._

"I'm completely fine, but you're right, there's work to do," I manage to spit out, about ready to just spill the truth on how I was more tired than an insomniac. Unsatisfied with my response, her worried eyes don't seem to leave me as I continue to trudge on, tying a maroon apron around my slim waist. _At least I didn't get fat again, that's another plus to_ _the whole_ _stripper_ _thing_.

"Yeah well," Mair says unconvinced, pausing mid-sentence to take a drag from the cigarette, "You know what to do." She gestures to the empty dining-tables and observes me as I start setting the tableware; her worries only increasing as she watches of me fumble around and be an overall klutz.

Mari sighs, and I know it must be disappointing to have such a fuck-up for a brother. What I don't know, however, is that Mari is already aware of my sleepless night, she just doesn't know the necessity or reason behind why I was up all night.

 _Victor_

"There, there," Chris soothes empathetically, patting my back as I kneel hunched over the toilet bowl, "Next time try not to get so drunk off your ass! Most people settle over one glass of beer, not the entire keg..."

I gurgle and spit out foul-tasting chunks of last nights dinner, my head spinning from the aftermath of too many vodka shots. Annoyed and sick, I try and focus on Chris' honey-smooth mantra of odd pick-me-ups, only hoping that ignoring my pain would make it go away.

"This could happen to anyone, you know," Chris continues on, oblivious to the fact that Yurio had snuck in and was currently watching me make a fool of myself. "Anyone's ex-fiancé can go from an innocent ball of pureness to an erotic pole dancer..."

Yuri scoffs in the distance, the loud jeer making him known as present, and rolls his eyes in an over-dramatic manner, "That does not happen to anyone! What's this about katsudon being a pole dancer anyway? He's probably to fat to even fit on the stage!" His laugh is as loud as a jackhammer pounding away at concrete, hiding the fact that he's secretly hoping that what Chris had said was false. That Yuuri hadn't went pro-hornball...

"Shush, Yuri, we don't want to upset Victor anymore than he is already!" Chris hisses quietly to Yurio, though I still catch what he says quite audibly. "Though yes, Yuuri now dances erotically on the stage. He's quite sexy, if I do say so myself..."

I sit up fully, wiping the slimy muck from my chin and turn to the two blonds quietly, " _Yes_ , so what if Yuuri let himself enter a world as slutty as that one? It's my job to get him back to reality." With finality, I manage to clean myself up and ignore Yurio's shocked outcries and Chris' perverted comments as I dress myself.

"C'mon, Victor! You should lie down, Lord knows what could happen with a hangover as bad as yours!"

"Maybe you shouldn't have gotten this wasted, your own fault really."

"Shush, Yuri. But go to bed, the other Yuuri probably isn't even awake yet, he was performing _all_ night after all. No need to get dressed and make yourself more sick!"

"Don't need you jerking it to him either..."

"Yuri! Stop it!"

"Just saying..."

I spin to them and slap the two of them hard, leaving the bright-red outline of my hand on each of their cheeks. "Shut up, you're both only getting on my nerves!" They both look equally insulted, though Chris seems more understanding than anything. I storm away, dressing in the same clothes from yesterday. Glancing at the clock, I'm semi-shocked to see it's already eight in the morning, though I know even this is late for the usual start to my day.

I stomp downstairs, duly noting that most of Yurio's competitors have already started training for the day, and head straight for the lodging area.

Yuuri has to be around here somewhere, and boy if seeing him that first time hadn't been awkward (and vaguely insulting), now I have to actually talk to him.

Yikes.

 **Sorry for such a late update.**

 **I originally had gone for a more angsty chapter, but this fanfic isn't meant to be sad, so naturally I went back to more pissy Yuuri and self-loathing Victor.**

 **Anyway, thanks for sticking through with this!**

 **Q: Have Mari find out about stripper!Yuuri before or after Phichit (he's making his cameo soon)?**


	10. Chapter Eight

**This chapter is utter shit. It's late. It's sloppily written. And I have no idea where this story is going. If anyone has any ideas** _ **please**_ **contact me, any suggestion would be a blessing to have!**

 **Sorry for the delay, and please excuse this utter mess of a fanfic.**

 _Yuuri_

After Mari barged into my room— and gave me a near heart attack— I found my inner peace with cleaning up the dining area. All around me were quiet conversations and overall tranquility, our regular customers were somehow putting up with the flamboyant International guests. But as soon as I got use to the peacefulness, the entrance door slams open, all at once the secluded mood is ruined and out comes some obnoxious guest. While this happens though, with my back to the guest, I continue scrubbing the tables, paying no mind to the exasperating entrance. Surely if I ignore it, it'll go away...

"Yuuri, I'm your biggest fan!" I hear the same guest scream from behind my back. "Come back to ice skating! I miss seeing your tight, sexy ass shimmy across the ice!"

Everyone turns to look at the perverted, screaming fan and me as I slowly try to continue ignoring him. I swear to God though, this is the way I'm going to die— from pure embarrassment. My face slowly burns a peach-pink and my hands start trembling from humiliation as I continue wiping down the tables. Honest to God, this cannot _possibly_ be happening right now, at least not in front of everyone...

"Your buttocks is the cure for cancer!"

 _Continue scrubbing, ignore this… this maniac!_

"Your smooth, fleshy cheeks give me—"

 _Will this torture stop? Will this madness stay away from my home? From my family?_

"Your face too! Mmh, delicious like katsudon!"

 _Suddenly though, my mind draws a blank. Did he mention… no, wait..._

"Everything about you is perfect! I miss seeing your beauty everyday like I did back in Detroit. Good times," the pervert continues rambling on, only then do I realize it's Phichit— who's purposefully embarrassing me like the sadist he is.

"Oh my God," I nearly yell as I spin around. "Why would you—"

"Because I love you and wanted to see your reaction," he laughs, "Ignoring my catcalls probably wasn't the best thing to do though, real perverts feed off of that."

"Maybe, but that was just so... gross!" By now most of the competitors and their coaches wandered in to see Phichit near-molest me with his words. Still though, my face is bright pink as he continues dancing around me.

"Awe, little Yuuri's embarrassed," he giggles. "It's as if you don't know that you're so arousing!" He winks jovially, meaning nothing of the comment, but I hear a few people mutter counter-arguments in the background.

"Phichit!" I yell, a scandalized expression takes over my face. _I_ _swear_ , _he's_ _gonna_ _be the death of me..._

"...!" In the background Chris yells something—most likely profane— as Victor slaps his hand over his mouth.

Ignoring the Switz hoot and holler, Phichit looks at me with a giddy tint to his eyes, as if he knows something I don't. "Well, babe, how about we get some cake and ditch this joint," Phichit offers, winking yet again. This time though, he leaves out the rather seductive voice.

"I can't just leave, Phichit," I say giggling, "If you want cake though, I can probably get some out for you."

He swoons, placing two hands over his heart, "Yuuri, my love, I would owe you _my life_ —"

"Phichit—"

"Baby—"

"I'll just get you some—"

Cia-Cio finally cuts in, rushing to Phichit's side, "No sweets on competition day! Though it's nice to see you, Yuuri, looking good." His frantic— almost fatherly— expression breaks out into a smile before dragging Phichit away, all the while Phichit is screaming, "No, my lover! My cake!"

I laugh as he is slowly removed from the room, the quietness falls again as the shortly-lived scene comes to a close.

 _Victor_

The air ventilation vents whirl above me, clanking and clunking obnoxiously, disrupting my sour-puss sulking and forcing me to actually try to listen to the scene unfold before me. Yuuri's friend, a young, Thai skater named Phichit, dances behind Yuuri, making odd faces, as if taunting the poor Katsuki. Yuuri whirls around and laughs before I catch any of the conversation, though Chris does start saying something about last night, about Yuuri's profession, so I slap him. Shortly after, we finish breakfast and are walking away, my mind still running on reply of my blurry memories from the night before.

"Chris, we have to tell someone about Yuuri's slut-fest," I announce unexpectedly, my mind twisting and choking in on terribly erotic memories from the night before. "He's gonna get himself hurt!"

Stopping in his tracks, Chris turns to me with a look on his face that implies that I'm crazy.  
"You wouldn't care if it were anyone else, you just feel guilty..." Chris mutters, mildly annoyed. "Plus, I strip on occasion and I'm perfectly fine!"

"But that's different! This is sweet Yuuri we're talking about... Would he be doing this if I hadn't left him?"

"Admittedly, no. You two would most likely be married with kids by now..."

"Exactly! So it _is_ my fault!"

Chris rolls his eyes, and looks at me attentively, "Victor, you can't blame everything on yourself. Yuuri most likely also has reasons for pole dancing that do not involve you..."

Giving a dramatic sigh, I look up at the ceiling in despair. Surely this is my fault though, I shouldn't have left him...

"What's this I hear of a slut-fest? About _pole dancing_?" An angry voice demands from behind us. "You better not be talking about my _baby_ brother!"

In that moment, I swear the Devil himself sent his spawn to murder me in the form of this small, Japanese woman.

 **sorry again**


	11. Chapter Nine

_Yuuri_

The first day of the tournament started out rather smoothly. My day was rather bland in the sense of normal; all I really had to do was wake up, get dressed, and prepare the inn for the day. Nothing exciting was happening here at Yutopia, but the Ice Palace was packed with spectators, reporters, and [obviously] the skaters themselves. Seeing as I detest and feel awkward around a fair amount of the skaters participating, I decided to forgo watching the event live.

It isn't even as if I've never been to a live skating show though, considering the fact that I, myself, was once a literal-to-God figure skater (this is my first retired season, for Christ's sake...). This tournament will be just like any other- cheesy, sappy music in every performance- loud, clapping crowds- hideously sexual costumes- and you guessed it- Victor, the show hog.

I mean, it's all the same...

Yurio will wow the crowd with his innocence. Otabek, possibly the most indifferent person to ever exist, will surprise everyone with an emotional performance. Phichit will be throwing around happy, go-lucky dance elements every chance he has. JJ with a self-absorbed everything. And Victor, with choreography most likely about love and heartbreak, acting as if 'my' departure actually meant something to him. The only performance I'm even remotely interested in is Phichits, so that's the only one I'll probably catch later on.

But to sum up everything, nothing that happens today will even matter.

It's only around noon that the tournament starts, and it's also only around noon that I finally leave the inn. Slow-paced visitors crowd around the rinks doors, all awaiting to make it in time to watch the performances.

Girls competitions are starting tomorrow; I have my money on Mila winning because from my shortly-lived time in St. Petersburg, I watched her truly blossom into an amazing skater (plus, Sara twisted her ankle a month back, so that puts her out of the way).

"Katsudon," An angry voice screams from across the street. "Where the Hell have you been?" I turn to the noise and there I see the fuming Russian punk in all his glory, cat ears and all.

A shy-smile breaks out on my face; hesitantly, I raise my hand in a small wave. "Hey, Yurio. Aren't you supposed to be-"

"Save it, pig. I couldn't stand Victor's moping any longer," Yuri half-shouts from across the road, his face growing redder by the second, highlighting his corn-cob colored eyebrows.

We stand there for a few seconds, just basking in the presence of one another. Yuri, as impatient as ever, waits not even a breath's worth of silence before screaming, "Fucking answer me!"

The glowering teen's brightly sequined leotard contrasts his red-hot face, the skates slung over his shoulder swaying back and forth as he stomps towards me.

My eyebrows raise in confusion at the demand, my smile wavering. "Yurio, I've been helping at the inn these past few days. You've seen me..."

"No, asshole, where were you when Victor needed you?"

The question throws me off guard, and it's as if a rock had been dropped in my stomach. It isn't my fault that Victor is throwing a tantrum [again]. Just as it sure as Hell isn't my fault that our relationship failed.

"What are you even talking about?" I ask evenly. "He left, not me."

His angry glare falters, some foreign, confused emotion crosses his face, "Victor's headstrong. Impulsive. He didn't mean-"

"Yurio, stay out of our... our problem. What do you want me to say? Victor _ended_ our relationship. _Terminated_ it. How else should I explain it?" I hiss, my friendly pretense dropping entirely. "At one point I loved him, but now I know him leaving was for the best."

Instead of getting angrier, Yuri kinda just stands there, taking everything I just said in. His cheeks, only a few minutes ago were scarlet as a rose, slowly fade to a pristine-paper shade.

Looking lost, he fumbles around for a few seconds, before finally coming up with an ever-so-brilliant reply.

Shifting from one foot to the other, Yuri looks oddly upset, as if our relationship actually meant something to him. Barely even audible, I somehow make out his mumbled-up answer of, "So? Fix it."

Turning away, I look at the cracked, mossy sidewalk. My heart dropping to my feet, somehow I realize Victor and I could've never lasted. Not with his impulses and not with my insecurity. Making my mind and breaking my heart even more, I only then come to final realization.

"There's nothing to fix."

 **(I low key want to have a Yurio perspective following this, but alas, I will not because of this story's formatting)**

 _Victor_

Getting hit in the head with a frying pan is never a pleasant experience, no matter who does the hitting. Coincidentally, when Mari hits me— not once, but three times— with her pan, I just about pass out.

Unfazed by the short beating, Chris turns to her nonchalantly and explains, "Yuuri is a stripper, and Victor is freaking out because he still has feelings for him." His soft, hazel irises don't blink as he stares her dead in the eyes. Not an ounce of remorse given while he paraphrases my mini heart attack over 'Eros' pole dancing.

Silence falls for a moment before she just about loses it. Irk and hatred fade out from her expression, while she tries to process everything said with remorse crossing her face.

"What do you mean Yuuri is a stripper?" Mari finally asks, her glare faltering slightly, a slightly shocked emotion filters across her face. Ignoring Chris' comment about my love for Yuuri, she momentarily flips over the idea of Yuuri pole dancing.

"That... Can't be..." Her soft voice panics slightly, before slapping me again. "Screw off, you lying—!" Back to the Victor I love qr hung, she starts throwing a well-served bitch fit.

Chris looks mortified as she continues spewing off curses my way— her one-sided shouting match only expressing a small bit of her hatred for me.

Unsure of what to say in return to her fit of rage, I just stand there awkwardly. Coming to my rescue, one of the novice skaters puked in the onsen so she was whisked away to clean it up.

As guilty as I feel, I'm glad someone other than Chris and I know of Eros. Because now at least she can stop him from landing himself a bad customer.

It's nearing midmorning as I watch Georgi stretch and listen as Yakov scolds him for being late to warm-ups. My heart aches as I observe them, their coaching-student dynamic very much the same as its been for over a decade. That strange dynamic is something I long for, something that never fully happened between Yuuri and I. Perhaps our relationship took off too quick, perhaps that's why I fled from the engagement so fast. Maybe if we took it slow— as coach and student— then maybe we'd still be together...

I normally strive for excellence. Just the very thought of skating competitions brings me head over heels— this is what I live for. However, with the whole Yuuri-Eros situation, I'm not sure how I feel today.

I miss him the way I miss the ice.

And perhaps that's why I failed to notice Yuri leave warm-ups.

And then failed to notice him slink back in the room, twenty minutes later, growling the whole way through.

And then continually failed to notice him sulk and glare daggers at me.

But hey, no one can really blame me; everyone knows I'm an airhead.

Yuri's eyes, burning the back of my head, twitch as he brings his leg to his head midstretch. Nostrils flare as he plans murderous, teenage deeds.

Little do I know, but tiny Yura finally uncovered the truth to my failed romance.

And that I'm a lying hoebag.

A solid hour passes since warm-ups started, and there I sit, watching floozy-like men, glide across ice in the middle of an obnoxiously-lit stadium.

Billy Joel's, "We Didn't Start the Fire" is blasting on the loud speakers while Yuri practices— flawlessly, might I add. Georgi, doing God-knows-what, is covered in purple and pink powder. His face looks like a clown threw up shit-mixed-sparkles on it, an absolute mess.

Still hungover, my mind only then turns to social media. A place where my heart shall forever linger.

Scrolling aimlessly through Twitter, dropping a few likes on some Victor-fan accounts, two suspicious trends make it to my eye.

 _#katsukiyuuri_ and _#slutfest2k17_

And only then do I realize what terrible act I committed the night before...

What fucking idiot records— and then posts— a video of their ex-fiancé striping anyway?

 **Huge shout-out to** _ **YoiFan**_ **, I was out of ideas and ready to go on hiatus but their social media idea got this shit-fest rolling.**

 **Also, thanks to everyone who's stuck with this story so far and those who have taken the time out of their day to comment— you guys are the best!**

 **Enough said , this was a pretty long chapter (by my standards, at least).**

 **Hope you guys enjoyed this!**


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